Ilk critics club was up to fell him;
An’ as he, helpless, met the stroke,
I, starting, trembl’d, syne awoke.
Now aunty, see this sad narration,
Which fills my breast wi’ fair vexation;
An’ if you can some comfort gie me,
Make nae delay, but send it to me:
For I’m commanded by Apollo,
Your sage advice in this to follow.